


You Get My Love

by BazzyBelle



Series: Carry On Countdown Fics (2019) [9]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Carry On Countdown (Simon Snow), Carry On Countdown 2019, Communication, Day 12: Song-Inspired, M/M, Post-Book 2: Wayward Son, Spoilers for Book 2: Wayward Son, carry on, honest dialogue, sleeping confessions, these numpties can only do while sleeping, walls breaking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 10:47:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21968062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BazzyBelle/pseuds/BazzyBelle
Summary: Now, we’re in bed, but not talking. It’s what we do… We don’t talk. We don’t know how to talk to each other. I don’t know how to talk to Baz. I wish I knew what to say to him. I wish I could find the words to tell him how I feel inside. But it’s so hard. It’s so hard to look at him and tell him how I feel.I look at him now, face turned away from me, his hair fanned out behind him. I reach out and lightly touch it. I know it won’t wake him. Baz isn’t a heavy sleeper, but it’ll take more than a touch of his hair to wake him. I settle into the sheets and  play with a silken strand, twisting it in my fingers.“I’m such an idiot.” I say it so quietly, though I know he can’t hear me. Maybe this is how I find the words to say to him. I continue to run my fingers through his hair and watch him breathing. I love him so much. Maybe eventually, I’ll be able to tell him this when he’s awake.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Carry On Countdown Fics (2019) [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1554754
Comments: 12
Kudos: 93
Collections: Carry On Countdown 2019





	You Get My Love

**Author's Note:**

> So… I changed this idea like 10 times. Then, I had an idea I liked with a song I love (Still Crazy - Paolo Nutini) and wrote out like almost 1500 words. Unfortunately, I heard this Pink song on my Spotify and I saw the conversations described below in my head and they WOULD. NOT. LEAVE! So, I put my original idea to the side and followed this little trail of breadcrumbs and here we are.
> 
> Thank you to Tbazzsnow (Artescapri) and to Drvivc (Fight_Surrender) for beta-reading my work and for helping me to find Simon's voice.

_While you were sleepin', I decided to lay it out. Every bad reason. All of my pointless doubts. While you were dreamin’, I handed you all my fears. My thoughtless decisions, turned into thoughtful tears._

**SIMON** ****

Crowley, he’s perfect.

I’m lying in bed right now, staring at Baz. He has his back turned to me, but the steady rise and fall of his chest confirms to me that he is asleep. He is so quiet when he sleeps, and so peaceful. I want to reach over and plant a kiss on his cheek, but I don’t dare. Not after the fight we just had. I’m lucky he’s even here after what I said to him. 

But Baz always comes back.

I made a whole mess of things, again. We were doing fine today. It had been a good day, but I went about and ruined it, like I always ruin things. The fight came about as I was going through the laundry. I had made a mistake and accidentally put a black sock in with the whites. All of my white shirts were now a dirty grey colour. Not even the beautiful, deep-sea grey like Baz’s eyes, but a washed up, milky grey. Baz walked into the room and fixed everything with a flick of his wand.

I lost my shit. I was fucking furious. _“I don’t need your bloody magic, Baz. Magic doesn’t fix everything,”_ I ranted. Baz just stood there, arms crossed, silent.. I was so enraged and Baz just stood there, with that look on his face, I could see the pity in his eyes.

That’s when I went nuclear and said the one thing I promised I would never say to him:

 _“Just LEAVE, BAZ! I want you to leave!”_ Baz looked at me as if I had punched him in the face. He looked at the ground for a second and pushed his long hair away from his eyes. I heard a sharp inhale of breath as his eyes met mine, grey-eyes turned cloudy. 

_“Do you? Do you want me to leave, Simon?”_ He was so calm. I should have said no. I should have grabbed his hands and pulled him closer to me. I should have buried his head in the crook of my neck and apologized.

But I was… So. Fucking. Angry. That I delivered that emotional knockout instead. 

_“YES! LEAVE!”_ I regretted it as soon as the words left my lips. Baz’s eyes flashed a second of sadness. Only a second, and then he put up his mask again and walked out of the bedroom. My heart sank to my stomach and I began to panic. 

_“Fuck-- wait! Baz...”_

_“I need some air.”_ His voice sounded so shaky and so broken. It was a punch to my gut.

 _“Come back… please…”_ I whispered. Baz sighed deeply, and walked out the door. I was left alone with my thoughts and my regrets. I growled and punched one of Penny’s throw pillows, sending dust motes flying. I remember thinking that this was it. This was the argument that would end us. This was the line that would be too far for Baz. 

But, he came back. I was so scared that he would stay away and never come back, but he came back.

Baz always comes back. 

Baz was quiet, subdued. He asked me if I wanted him to stay the night. I nodded, so he stayed. We spent the remainder of the evening in silence. Baz and I both read quietly (him, a book about archeology; me, a Lucifer graphic novel). Penny had come in and noticed the tension between us, but she didn’t say anything. She just grabbed my shoulder and lightly gave Baz’s arm a squeeze. 

Now, we’re in bed, but not talking. It’s what we do… We don’t talk. We don’t know how to talk to each other. I don’t know how to talk to Baz. I wish I knew what to say to him. I wish I could find the words to tell him how I feel inside. But it’s so hard. It’s so hard to look at him and bear my heart. 

I look at him now, face turned away from me, his hair fanned out behind him. I reach out and lightly touch it. I know it won’t wake him. Baz isn’t a heavy sleeper, but it’ll take more than a touch of his hair to wake him. I settle into the sheets and play with a silken strand, twisting it in my fingers.

“I’m such an idiot.” I say it so quietly, though I know he can’t hear me. Maybe this is how I find the words to say to him. I continue to run my fingers through his hair and watch him breathing. I love him so much. Maybe eventually, I’ll be able to tell him this when he’s awake. 

“Everytime I think I’m getting better, something like this happens and I feel like all the work I put in was for nothing.” I’ve been going back to therapy for almost six months. My therapist and I were working on avoiding projecting my negative thoughts and fears onto those I care about. We were working on isolating every bad thought and actively challenging them. I have gotten pretty good at it, but I slip up sometimes. Usually when my emotions take control of my thoughts. 

I turn away from Baz and lay on my back. I stare at the ceiling for a while, before covering my eyes with my arm. I groan in frustration, but I continue to open up. 

“I know I piss you off… I piss myself off! All the time.” I violently throw my arms up in the air. I remember that Baz is sleeping and I lower my voice. I don’t want to wake him up. I’ve hurt him enough for one night. 

I stare at a small crack in the ceiling for what seems like hours (really, it was probably a few seconds) before I proceed. “I want to get better. Crowley knows I’m trying so fucking hard…” My voice cracks a little into a croak. I look at him once more. It hurts me to see him like this. 

Alone. Cold. Isolated. 

“I-I… I just…” I look away and squeezed my eyes shut. I’m NOT doing this now! I’m not going to break down and sob. I breathe in sharply and try to steady my feelings. This is probably the only time in my life where I’m grateful that I don’t have magic anymore. If I did, it would be spewing all over the flat, waking Baz up. 

I shift my body to face him once more. I reach for his hair and run my fingers through it. His breathing is still steady and soft. I’m thankful that he’s still fast asleep. I whisper, mostly into the pillow. “I don’t want to lose you, Baz.”

I can feel warm tears brimming my eyes. I go on. I can’t stop now. “I don’t want you to find a reason to leave.” I feel my chest beginning to lighten up. My shoulders hunch over and the tears start flowing freely. Crowley, how long has it been since they flowed easily like this? 

I turn away again. I run my fingers through my hair and tug at the roots. This is too much. It’s too fucking much. I need to stop. I need to stop and sleep on the couch or something.

But he’s here. He came back. 

Baz always comes back.

My tears will not stop fucking flowing. I feel so pathetic. I can’t even keep it together while spilling my guts to my boyfriend… and he’s not even awake to hear anything! I don’t look at him this time, but I still talk. I talk to the crack on my ceiling. 

“But you’re so… _you_ . And I still think you’d be better with someone less fucked up… less _me._ ”

My shoulders start shuddering and I start finding it difficult to maintain a steady flow of air. I slowly sit up in the bed and pull my knees close to my chest. I find it hard to believe that Baz is still sleeping. Normally, he’d be up as soon as I move. He must have been much more exhausted than he was letting on. 

I look at him for a little while, and then turn away once more. 

“So I yell… and I tell you to leave. And I push you away.” I wring my hands while I speak. I cover my eyes with them and wipe futilely at the tears. I bury my head in my knees and I whisper faintly. “And I turn away because I can’t take you rejecting me.” 

I take a couple of moments to let the tears flow without fighting them. I continue to try and control my breathing. 

In. Out. 

In. Out. 

Deep breath in. Slow breath out.

I lift my head and lean back against the headboard. I’ve calmed down. My tears have stopped. I look over to him. He’s fucking beautiful. He’s so patient and so good. He deserves someone who can be stable and who can love him in the way that he deserves to be loved. He deserves someone who will not yell at him to leave and then ask him to stay. 

I reach out to touch him again, but I stop myself. I rub the back of my neck and start to think back to one of my therapy sessions. “I shouldn’t project my fears onto you. It isn’t fair to you. You’ve been nothing but supportive.” 

Baz was so happy when I told him I was going to go back and start trying to get better and to heal. He is always ready to listen to whatever I need to say to him and never pushing me to talk until _I’m_ ready to do so. He’ll make me tea during my sessions, so that it’s ready by the time I’m done. If I ask him to, he’ll sit nearby in case I need to hold his hand, or if I need to feel him close to me. And if I need him to give me space, all it takes is a single look and he’ll busy himself in another room. 

“You give me space when I need it, and you come back when I need you.”

He comes back. Baz always comes back. Now, I’m ready to come back to him. I lower myself back into the bed and under the sheets. I touch the ends of his hair and twirl my fingers through them. 

“I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry Baz…” I whisper to him once more. I am. I’m so sorry. “I’m a fucking mess. I’m made of nothing but broken parts and I’m trying to keep myself together, but I can’t stay together.” 

I can feel my heart starting to slow down. I think I needed to let all of this out. I feel as though a giant weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. I can feel my eyelids beginning to fall. They feel so heavy, that I am finding it so difficult to keep them open. Before I start to drift off, I chance it, and wrap one of my arms around Baz’s waist and snuggle up close to him. If he hears anything tonight let it be this. 

“I need you Baz. _You_ keep me together. Don’t leave me.”

* * *

_I’m no longer hidin’, though you’re not awake to leave. I can tell by your breathin’, it’s no longer a fantasy. I’m still not prepared for when you wake up and turn to me._

**BAZ**

I was never asleep. 

I couldn’t sleep. My mind was too busy replaying the events from today. Trying to understand what had happened and how to prevent it from happening again. We were doing so well. Simon was making some improvements since going back to therapy. But today… today showed us that he still has work to do. And I know that it frustrated him so much more than it hurt me. That’s why I came back. That’s why I always come back. 

I come back because I love him and no matter how frequently his inner demons try to push me away, I will never stay away from him. Until the day, he tells me that we are over and that all hope for us is gone, I will always come back to him. 

I came back tonight, even though everything told me to just go home. I came back because Simon’s eyes looked so broken and so lost as I walked out of his flat. I needed to get out of there, to clear my head, and besides, I needed to feed. So I took a long walk around a few blocks, until I got to one of the local butcher shops. They were closing up, but had some blood on hand -- thank Crowley that blood pudding is such a popular meal in these parts, there has not been a single butcher that has questioned my proclivity for the substance -- so I picked some up and headed back to Simon’s flat.

We didn’t talk. At all. We sat, we read, Bunce came by and looked at us, with a sad empathetic expression. She didn’t need to say anything, I already knew what she was thinking. I wish I knew how to fix things. I would do it in a heartbeat. If I knew the formula to rid Simon of the pain in his heart, I would apply it. I would apply it every single day, until his heart is fully mended again. Until the sparkle returns once more to his eyes. 

But I don’t, so I try to be what Simon needs me to be. I asked if he wanted me to stay tonight. He nodded, so I stayed. I stayed, but I still gave him his space, choosing to sleep with my back turned, waiting for him to set the boundaries; To decide how much he needed me tonight. 

I was unprepared for his confession. 

I immediately wanted to turn and face him. To tell him that he was wrong and that he was not an idiot. However, the rational side of me understood that Simon was opening up. Simon was opening up for the first time, and it was probably because he thought I was asleep. Even if he didn’t, I was not about to risk him shutting down again. I remained still and controlled my breathing. 

The task proved to be one of the most difficult ones in my life. I consider myself to be a master of self-control, being a vampire and all. But hearing Simon bear his heart, hearing his sobs in the night, hearing his _pain;_ I have never felt a compulsion stronger than the one to turn around and pull him into my arms. _Simon, I want to help you. Let me help you. Tell me how..._

As he cried, and attempted to control his breathing, I found myself having difficulty remaining calm. I kept myself grounded by listening to his voice as he continued to talk to me. It devastated me, to think that he was worried I would leave him for someone else. A life without him, is not a life I want for myself. I tried living without him, and it was a miserable existence. _Simon, you can’t ever push me away for too long. You will never lose me. I am miserable without you, Simon Snow._

He then wrapped his arms around me and held me close. I couldn’t control my body at that point, I leaned into him and let him hold me. He leaned in and begged me not to leave him. My heart broke and I shuddered back a sob. 

_Oh, Love… never. I will always be here._

I wait a few minutes for make sure that Simon has finished talking. He eventually pulls away from me and settles into his typical sleeping position (hunched over with all of his limbs pulled tightly, hands in an iron-like grip on the covers). I turn to face him and lightly drag the back of my hand on his shoulder. I feel him shuddering, and for a second I think I’ve awoken him, but he settles down again, so I push myself a little closer to him. I won’t pull him close to me, the last thing I want is to scare him away from me again. Instead, I reach up and smooth out the messy curls atop his head. 

“I suppose it’s now my turn.” I whisper to him. May as well respond to his confession with one of my own. Thank Crowley he’s asleep for this, I don’t think I’d have the nerve in me to be upfront and honest. But I owe it to him, since he was so honest with me. 

“I wish I knew how to help you, Simon. I wish I could take away your pain.” I was one of the top magicians of my class. I was brilliant in every situation, but when it came to helping my boyfriend, I feel as useless as a bloody numpty. The fact that I can ruin a good day with a wrong word, or a misunderstood read of the room, defeats me. “I wish I knew the right words to say to help you.”

I continue to pet him slowly. He’s magnificent. All courage and strength. Now with those wings and tail, he’s more spectacular. I know he hates them, but they are awe-inspiring to me. Everything about Simon is awe-inspiring. “I wish you could see yourself the way that I see you.”

I trace my fingers over his wings. I want to take all of him in and keep inside of me forever. I never want the image of Simon in all of his glory to leave me. “You are so strong, Simon Snow. To go through what you’ve gone through…” I think about everything that Simon has gone through, and I know that if I were put in his position, I would have faltered and given up. I will never be as strong as Simon. “You have had an impossible burden on your shoulders to bear.” I whisper to him. Imagine being the proclaimed savior of the World of Mages and then not only living up to that expectation, but going above and beyond. Simon fought for his life and he came through in the end. 

Simon’s always fighting.

Even now, he’s still fighting. Everyday, he wakes up and he fights again. He is no longer spending his days on the sofa. Instead, he makes plans and tries to accomplish small goals. One day, he’ll try a recipe in the kitchen; another day, he’ll organize a small space in the bedroom for some of my clothes (I’ve been staying over more often). He’ll do something more, and everytime he pushes himself a little further, I beam at him, full of pride and love. “I am so proud of you Simon, that you are working at getting better. Everyday, I wake up and I am in awe of you. You courageous fuck…”

I think back to Simon’s pleas for me to never leave him. I am a breath away from his wings and all I want to do is pull him close and bury my head between them. All I ever want to do is hold him close and keep telling him that I will never leave him. Maybe I should start saying it more often. I don’t know why I haven’t been saying it more, especially after almost losing him in America. I think I just lost my nerve while worrying that he was ready to leave me. 

But, here we are, and he hasn’t left me yet, so what’s stopping me from telling him now? “The fact of the matter is, if you want me to leave, I will leave. If you want me to stay, I will stay. I will _always_ cross every line for you, Simon.” 

I turn away from him as a sad thought crosses my mind. There is still the possibility that he will decide that he no longer wants me around. There is still the possibility that his happy life is one that does not involve me. “Until you decide that you no longer want me.” I feel a light thrum in my chest, which vibrates up to my throat and becomes lodged. I sit up on the bed and try to cough it out. The thought of Simon no longer wanting me is enough to literally choke me. The mere thought of being without him is enough to steal the breath from my lungs and render me helpless.

I let out a small, sad scoff as I stare at the ceiling. There is a small crack right above Simon. I decide to focus my attention on it. “I don’t think even that could stop me from loving you.” I look over to Simon, still sleeping peacefully, and I gently brush my hand across one of his wings. A small snore escapes Simon and I have to laugh. _Bloody mouth-breather._

I decide to lie back down, as close to Simon, as I can, without disturbing him. I reach out once more and brush his hair lightly. “I meant what I said in San Diego. I will never be happy anywhere without you”, I sigh out to him. 

_Here it is Pitch, your dead, cold heart on a silver platter for this boy._

“Without you… I-” I shudder a little. My voice cracks as I struggle to get through the end of my declaration. I take a deep, sharp breath through my nose and cough out another lump that has gotten caught in my throat. “Without you, Simon, I do not feel attached to this world.” 

Crowley… this is impossible. I momentarily look away from him as my vision begins to blur. I rub my eyes to rid them of any tears that threaten to fall. I take a minute to gather my thoughts and to calm the constant constriction in my chest. There is one more statement I need to make to Simon. One more thing I need to say before I turn away once more and return to my solitude for the night. With closed eyes, and bated breath, I gasp out, “Simon. _You_ bring me home.”

I start to pull away from him, when I notice something touching me. His tail has curled itself around one of my legs. My eyes soften and I dare to smile a little. At least I can feel secure in knowing that subconsciously, Simon still wants me. I decide to risk it, a little more, and I wrap my arms around his waist, finding a spot to settle within his wings. 

* * *

_The light comes in, the dawn is risin' down. You opened up your eyes. Once again I have to risk it all. The time is now._

**SIMON**

I think I was asleep for a little while. I was asleep until I felt the back of his hand on my shoulder blade. I awoke to hear him expressing how much he wished I could see myself the same way he saw me. 

_How do you see me Baz? Tell me!_

I tighten my grip on the bed covers as the man I love tells me just how much he loves me back. I want to laugh at how stupid we both are. It is absolutely insane that the only way we are able to talk to each other is when we think the other is sleeping. 

Crowley… we’ve really got a lot of work to do. 

Baz whispers to me that he finds me so strong and I almost lose it again. I hear him tell me how he is awed by me, and I want to turn to him and grab him into a kiss, but I don’t. He nearly sobs out that he will never leave me until I tell him to leave me for good, and I have to bite my fist to prevent myself from making any more noise. 

Then he delivers an emotional knockout of his own. Baz, that calm, collected, magnificent man, tells me that it no matter if I no longer want him, he will always love me. I can’t help it then, I actually choke out a sob (or rather, it sounds more like a snore than a sob). 

_He will always love me._

I want to take him in my arms and just hold him there. Like at his manor. Keep him close so that nothing is hurting him. I prevent myself from doing anything, because Baz has laid down once more and he’s starting to run his fingers through my hair. _Crowley, it hurts how much I love him. It hurts because we’re both here, in love, without doing anything about it._

I stay silent and still as Baz continues to open up to me. I stay still and I listen and I love him more and more. And I promise that through everything I feel and through my doubts, I will try to never make him doubt us. I will try to remember tonight and how much I love him in this moment. I will try and fight for us. I will fight for him. 

_Baz, I will always be here to bring you back home._

I can feel him beginning to pull away. _No… not yet… stay…_ My tail curls around his leg, asking him to stay close to me. I let myself lean back towards him. At first, I’m not sure if he understands what I want, but I let out a sigh of relief as I feel his cool arms wrap around my waist. My wings make it a little awkward, but Baz finds a way to fit himself amidst them. 

I’m the first of us to wake up in the morning. I feel the sunlight hit my face. I squint as my eyes adjust to the light. My tail is still wrapped around Baz’s leg, and I can still feel him holding me. I know that as soon as I pull away from him, that he’ll wake up. I start to think back on the night. I could pretend that none of it happened and go on as though everything was fine. But, I can’t find it in me ignore everything that was said. I promised that I would fight for us, and I intend to keep my promise. 

I take a deep breath and start to pull myself up. As soon as my position changes, Baz’s arms move away from my waist. So, he’s woken up. I turn to him and see his gorgeous stormy-grey eyes staring back at me. I remember all that he’s said to me and I break a little. Baz bolts up from sleep and immediately gathers me into his strong arms. 

I bury my head in the crook of his neck and grasp onto the back of his nightshirt. “Baz… I’m… I’m sorry.” I wheeze out. He starts to gently pet the back of my head and softly shushes me. 

“Shh... I know, Love, I know.”

I shake my head and look up at him. “No. I need you to hear this.” I’m fighting… I’m fighting for us.

“Alright.” He slowly releases me from his grasp and starts to tug at the sleeves of his nightshirt. He cracks his knuckles and looks down at the bedsheets.

I adjust myself on the bed and take his hands in mine. I can’t look at him at first, but I find the strength to lift my head and meet his eyes. “I’m fighting Baz. Everyday, I’m…”

Crowley! Why is this so fucking hard? I was able to do this easily merely hours ago! Why can’t I find the words to say? Baz tenderly grazes the side of my face with the back of his hand. He gives me a soft smile, encouraging me with adoration.

“Take your time, Love.”

I take a deep breath. I can feel the fucking tears again. They didn’t get enough last night, they’re back to further humiliate me. “I’m struggling against my doubts and thoughts.” I stop. I need a moment to collect my thoughts and these tears just won’t stop. Baz runs a thumb across my eye, wiping away any tears that have begun to fall. 

“Go on…” he softly reassures me. 

“And sometimes the thoughts win. Sometimes they take over and I yell and I tell you to leave.” I’m almost shouting at this point. I’ve pulled my hands away from his and have slammed one of my palms against my forehead. Baz grabs onto one of my hands and gives it a consoling squeeze. 

“Baz… I don’t want you to leave.” I choke out. I’m full-on sobbing now. The tightness in my chest from last night has returned. I wrap my arms around my chest and give myself a squeeze. Baz coaxes my arms apart and takes me into his arms again. He starts trying to soothe me, and I let him do it. I let him try and help me. His arms are holding onto me so tight, but he’s always so cautious not to squeeze me too hard, just enough that I feel secure. 

“I will never leave, unless you truly want me to.” A small, barely audible sob has escaped his lips now. I look up at him and see his eyes. They are downcast, he looks so tired right now. So… overcome with everything… _Unguarded._

I hold onto him, as if I’m worried that he’ll slip away if I let him go. “I don’t, Baz! I want you to stay. I want to continue fighting. I don’t want to give up.”

“I know you don’t,” he murmurs to me. 

“Don’t give up on me.” I ask of him. It’s the request that I’ve been so afraid to say. I’ve been so afraid that he’ll deny me… So afraid that he’ll give up on me. 

But Baz is Baz. And after last night, a part of me is hopeful that he’ll ever truly abandon me. I feel both of his hands cupping my face. He lifts my face, so my eyes are meeting his. “Never, Simon. I will never give up on you” he tells me, as he wipes the remaining tears in my eyes. I grasp onto his wrists. I need to feel him. 

“Promise?” I whimper.

“I promise.” He draws me into a deep kiss. 

We’ve promised each other that we’re going to fight. This time, I think I’m finally starting to believe it. 

_But you get my love, baby. You get my love. If there’s only one thing about me that you can trust. You get my love, baby. You get my love. Don’t let my mistakes take that away from us. You get my love._


End file.
